


pictures

by gayprentiss



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, F/F, If You Squint - Freeform, Lingerie, Overstimulation, Pictures, Smut, brat penelope, obviously emily is daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayprentiss/pseuds/gayprentiss
Summary: in which penelope is wearing pretty lingerie and emily wants to keep the moment forever
Relationships: Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	pictures

“Do you like it?” Penelope preens, stretching across the white comforter on Emily’s bed. Her arms rise over her head, allowing Emily a full view of her torso, adorned in bright pink lingerie. The ruffled straps weave across Penelope’s stomach and chest in ways Emily can’t even begin to understand, so she thanks the universe she doesn’t have to. She’ll just fuck Penelope with it on. 

“It’s pretty, Pen,” Emily murmurs, running her hands up Penelope’s sides and coming to rest on her breasts. When Penelope gives a soft–nearly imperceptible–whine, Emily tweaks her left nipple through the lacey pink fabric with a chuckle. “Shh, Princess. Let me look at you.”

Penelope sticks out her bottom lip, but Emily is unfazed. She taps Penelope’s protruded lip, mumbles, “put that away,” then continues letting her hands roam Penelope’s body. Her fingertips brush every inch of bare skin she can reach, lighting Penelope on fire. Emily’s touching, just _touching_ , reveling in the soft, supple woman before her. Emily could do this all day. But after what feels like ages, (to Penelope, of course,) Penelope starts to get antsy. Emily’s warm, callused hands are moving everywhere except where Penelope needs to feel her. It’s when Emily grips Penelope’s thighs just above the white thigh-high socks she’s wearing, revelling in the half-moon shapes her trimmed nails leave, that Penelope snaps.

“Are you going to touch me, or not?” Penelope asks, a bite in her words. She knows she’s starting trouble. She knows that Emily’s eyebrow will quirk; that her eye will twitch. She knows she’s overstepped and she’s not being particularly _good_ right now, but Penelope doesn’t mind because she _also knows_ that means Emily will fuck her like she’s being bad.

Penelope’s right, as usual, because as soon as the testy words leave her mouth, Emily’s hands are off of her body and she’s stood at the foot of the bed, looming over Penelope, almost scary. “I _thought_ this was a gift for me, you brat,” Emily says calmly, her left eyebrow raised in mock-disbelief. “You’re not gonna let me enjoy my gift on my own time?”

Penelope shakes her head quickly, the blonde ponytails on the sides of her head swishing. This is what she’s been aching for, for Emily to be mean, for Emily to rough-handle her. This is how it always goes, Penelope knows. Next, Penelope predicts, Emily will tell her to turn over and get on her hands and knees. Penelope knows _exactly_ how Emily works, which is why Emily absolutely catches her off guard by turning away from the bed and stalking to the closet.

 _Her butt looks cute in that underwear,_ Penelope thinks, but her thoughts are abruptly cut off by Emily whipping around, shit-eating grin on her face, Hitachi wand in her hand.

Immediately, a sensual combination of regret and arousal washes over Penelope. She sits up, scrambling away from Emily and up against the headboard. “No, Emmy, please no,” she pleads with a coquettish look in her eye.

Emily is a sight to behold in front of her, dressed in only a mismatched bra and underwear set, as if she hadn’t been expecting Penelope to come over. It makes Penelope warm with desire, that idea of Emily carelessly choosing her undergarments while Penelope had agonized over picking the perfect pink set for her girlfriend. Emily returns to the end of her bed, twirling the vibrator as if it’s a baton. Penelope squeaks at the motion of Emily’s tanned, toned arms.

“What’s your color?” Emily asks gently, even though the only color she can fathom right now is the dark pink spot on Penelope’s panties where her arousal is seeping through the fabric.

“Greener than the grass in the Garden of Eden,” Penelope says.

Emily moves to sit in between Penelope’s legs where she sits up against the headboard. Shifting the energy of the room back into one of a scene, Emily pouts at Penelope mockingly. “Impatient little brat just couldn’t wait for me to fuck her, huh?” she teases.

Penelope nods. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she murmurs.

Emily reaches to plug the wand in, and Penelope squirms preemptively upon hearing the tell-tale sound of the vibrations.

“I think,” Emily starts, running the wand against Penelope’s inner thigh in a feather-light touch, “I need to teach you a lesson in patience.” She presses the vibrator against Penelope’s clit experimentally, grinning when she cries out in response. “Can you be quiet for me, Princess?” Emily asks, leaning in to kiss Penelope’s inner thighs repeatedly. _God,_ she wants to taste her, but for tonight’s purposes, it doesn’t quite seem to be in the cards. Then Emily contemplates for half of a second, then licks a wide stripe up Penelope’s arousal, through her lingerie. She wraps her lips around Penelope’s clit, sucking once, then pulling away. Satiated, she sits back on her heels and focuses her attention back on the vibrator.

“Oh, _Daddy,_ ” Penelope whines.

“Shh,” Emily reminds. She pulls Penelope’s lace underwear to the side, tucking the vibrator underneath so it sits snugly against her clit. Penelope starts to writhe at the stimulation, bucking her hips up against the toy. Emily pushes the heels of both of her hands on Penelope’s hip bones, pinning her down. “You have to stay still for the rest of what I have planned for you, princess.”

Penelope looks at Emily and lets her bitten lips part. _“There’s more?”_ Her facial expression reads, but she dares not to speak.

Understanding, Emily says, “Yes, there’s more.” Penelope lets out a tiny squeak, and Emily shoots her a look.

“S-sorry Daddy, it just— _oh_ —feels good,” Penelope speaks through a moan.

Emily shakes her head, laughing. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, because speaking without permission on any other day would guarantee a few bruises on your ass.”

Penelope smiles widely for a moment, but is cut off by her own pleasure, face twisting and eyes screwing shut as she tries to suppress another moan.

“Penny,” Emily sings, taking advantage of Penelope’s obscured vision. She clambers off the bed, all limbs, and starts rummaging through her bedside table. She can hear Penelope letting out soft whimpers next to her, and the noises only serve to fluster her in her quest to find what she’s looking for. After a moment, her hands feel smooth plastic, and she grins. Her camera.

Well, _technically,_ it’s Penelope’s camera, but after multiple nights of wishing they’d had it at Emily’s apartment, the yellow Polaroid had found a new home with Emily. They’d only ever used it innocently–a picture of Emily while she was napping, a picture of Penelope when she’d tried a new makeup idea, a selfie of the two of them that had come out horribly overexposed—but Emily’s stroke of genius extends far beyond her job and she had decided recently that the sweet camera would be better suited for a more naughty fate.

When Emily turns back to Penelope, she’s rutting her hips against the vibrator.

“Penelope. Cut that out,” she barks, but when Penelope peeks up at her, her visceral reaction to seeing the camera breaks Emily’s resolve. Penelope’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush.

“You’re gonna take pictures of me, Daddy?” She asks, pushing the words out quickly.

“Yeah, Daddy’s gonna take pictures of you, Princess, is that okay?” Emily replies gently, looking for consent.

Penelope nods with a squeak. There’s a wet spot on the bed underneath her, and Emily knows what she’s gonna say next.

“I might–mm–might not last much longer, Emmy,” Penelope whimpers, and tears of frustration fill her eyes.

“Hold it for me, baby,” Emily says, crawling back onto the bed and situating herself back between Penelope’s legs. Penelope juts her lips out in a pout, and Emily snaps a quick picture.

“Hey,” Penelope protests. A tear rolls down her cheek, leaving a mascara track in its wake. “Emmy I–”

“Hold. It,” Emily emphasizes, but turns down the vibrator a notch anyways. “Can you pose for me, pretty girl?”

Penelope shakes her head, but sticks her thumb in her mouth provocatively with a look at the camera. There’s a click and a flash as the photo is taken.

“Good girl, Princess,” Emily says, setting the camera to the side and moving in to kiss Penelope’s neck. She rubs her nose against the soft skin, breathing in Penelope’s perfume. Emily thinks that she might just like to live in this spot forever. But she can’t, she knows, so she settles for sucking a deep mark in the crook of Penelope’s neck. Penelope gasps, and the gasp morphs into a loud moan.

“Okay, pretty girl, let’s get you off,” Emily mumbles against Penelope’s jawline, letting her hand wander to the vibrator, shutting it off and pulling it away. Penelope whimpers at the loss of contact.

“Daddy,” Penelope whines pleadingly, and Emily presses a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You’re so sweet for me, Princess,” Emily says, repositioning to rest her head on Penelope’s thigh. “So soft, so beautiful.” Emily speaks mostly to herself, enjoying the feeling of Penelope’s gaze on her as she nips and kisses her inner thighs.

Penelope weaves her hands through Emily’s hair and tugs gently, subtly trying to pull her closer. Emily’s mouth opens to reprimand her needy baby, but she figures she’s equally as eager, so she decides against it. One of Emily’s fingers circles Penelope’s entrance teasingly.

“Who’s all this for?” Emily asks, looking up at Penelope. She’s _frustrated,_ incredibly frustrated, and instead of telling Emily what she already knows–that Penelope’s pussy is _Emily’s_ only, and _Emily_ is the only one who can get her this wet–Penelope chokes out a sob.

“Please, please, please,” She chants.

“You’re just so fucking disobedient today,” Emily murmurs, granting Penelope what she wants and sliding a finger into her. “Think I spoil you too much, what do you think?” Emily’s words tell Penelope she’s a brat, but her actions contradict as a second finger joins her first, pumping in and out of Penelope at the pace Emily knows will get her off.

Penelope moans, high-pitched and delicate. “I’m sorry, Daddy, really.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Emily whispers, curling her fingers to elicit a reaction from Penelope. It works. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

Penelope’s overwhelmed by the sensation of her Daddy’s fingers working her towards her orgasm paired with the sweet words coming out of her mouth.

“Say it,” Emily demands.

“I’m your good girl,” Penelope whimpers. At her words, Emily’s thumb comes to circle her clit rapidly, drawing her to the edge. “I’m, I’m–” Penelope starts.

“I know, sweet girl. Cum for me,” Emily says, working Penelope through her orgasm.

Penelope, who had been decently good about not moving, squirms through her release. Her legs are flailing, her hips are bucking, all in an attempt to move away from Emily and the overstimulation. Emily lets out a short laugh at Penelope’s desperation, and pulls her hand away from her.

“Good?” Emily asks, after Penelope has calmed.

“Mhm,” Penelope hums, adjusting to lay down.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now,” Emily calls as she moves to the bathroom and prepares a warm, damp washcloth.

“Too late, I’m asleep already,” Penelope replies. Her eyes are closed, arms wrapped around Emily’s pillow. When Emily returns, she taps Penelope’s ankle gently.

“Let me clean you up, baby,” she whispers.

Penelope peeks one eye open at her. “I have to take this off,” she says, gesturing to her lingerie.

“I’ll help,” Emily offers, but Penelope responds with a short laugh.

“If you could figure out how to get this off, it would’ve been off already,” she says, sticking her tongue out at Emily playfully. She’s right.

After Penelope’s undressed and decently clean, Emily gasps. “Oh, man!” She exclaims sadly. “I only took two pictures.”

Penelope pouts. “One for you, and one for me. No more tonight, I’m sleepy.” Emily sets the photos on her bedside table and crawls into bed next to Penelope. She pulls Penelope against her chest, working the hair ties out of her hair, and massaging where the ponytails were situated against her scalp.

“I know you wanted me to be mean to you tonight, but I just couldn’t do it,” Emily says, carding her fingers through Penelope’s hair. “You looked so pretty.”

“I’m always pretty,” Penelope quips, looking up at Emily to see her playful scoff. “But seriously, I liked this better tonight.”

“Yeah?” Emily asks, vulnerable.

“Yeah,” Penelope responds simply. She could elaborate, tell Emily despite how much she loves rough play and her daddy, _Emmy_ is who she fell in love with, and their nights together are equally as satisfying. She could say that, she thinks, but Emily already knows. She knows by the way Penelope snuggles closer into her chest and by the way their hands intertwine perfectly. She knows by Penelope’s eyes–they’re always lovesick–and by her smile.

Penelope closes her eyes, letting one hand hold Emily’s and the other rest on Emily’s chest. They lay there for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company. Emily is nearly asleep when Penelope shoots upright, wide awake.

“Oh my god, Em, I forgot to get _you_ off.”


End file.
